


Broken

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s05e13 The Diamond of the Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-09
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:21:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25162309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Merlin returns after the Battle to comfort the Queen, only to find worse news waiting for him.
Relationships: Gwaine/Merlin (Merlin)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 131





	Broken

The Warlock dragged his feet up the steps, through the crowded corridors and into the throne room, only to find the Queen seated on Arthur’s seat. He had not been gone that long, but clearly news of Arthur’s fatal wound had spread quicker than he anticipated. As he moved, the injured Knights and the court that surrounded the newly crowned ruler of Camelot paused, turning slowly to him. They parted like a sea, all aware now of what he was, what he had done.

Maybe it was the fact his eyes were still golden, that his clothes were bloodstained or that he was carrying Arthur’s cape in his arms. He reached the steps, sunk down to his knees on the stone floor and bowed his head to her, unable to look up.

‘Merlin.’ She whispered, sounding so broken. This pain, everything that she was feeling, it was all on him. He rose his head to her slowly, found the cold expression that was betrayed by her heartbroken eyes. He raised the cape, choked on the words he had been about to say, unable to do anything other than let more tears escape down his cheeks.

The Queen of Camelot left her throne, collapsed to the floor in front of him and the two of them cried. He could vaguely hear Leon giving an order to evacuate the room, for them to be given some space. Merlin didn’t care, sobbed until his throat was once again sore, until his eyes burned with the pain of shedding so many tears. When he finally looked up to Gwen, she was smiling sadly.

‘You did everything you could.’ They had trusted him, everyone had trusted him. And Arthur was still dead, because Merlin wasn’t strong enough to do what had to be done. He hadn't killed Mordred, and he hadn't stopped Morgana, and now he had lost his best friend. His destiny.

‘It wasn’t enough.’ He muttered, slowly handing the cloak across. It would ache for a while, Merlin knew that, and he was planning on taking some time from Camelot. Not alone, of course, he didn’t quite trust himself to do that.

He turned to look for the familiar eyes, for the person he trusted more than anyone. Even himself.

When he just found Leon and Percival, Merlin frowned.

‘Where’s Sir Gwaine?’ Then Percival faltered, his eyes widening and his expression becoming grave, and Merlin could feel his gut tighten.

‘Is he injured?’ He rose himself from the floor, looking to the giant Knight for confirmation. Percival didn’t speak, bowed his head slowly in answer to the question. The Warlock heard the sound of thunder outside, shook his head firmly.

‘No. Where is he. Percival _, please_.’ The Knight kept his head bowed, and Leon cleared his throat, eyes slightly misty.

‘His body is currently being moved onto the wagon, we’ll take him to the Lake…’ His knees buckled before Leon could finish the statement. The moment he hit the stone, the storm outside raged, rain lashing down onto the windows as he felt the last part of his heart shatter.

Someone was trying to comfort him, but the Warlock did not want comfort. He made his feet obey him, forced himself up and stumbled away from the survivors, out in the direction of the Wagon that would carry the dead to the Lake. The sky was stormy, people had gathered to look at the changing weather with looks of suspicion, but he couldn’t care.

The moment he spotted Gwaine, the last shard of his broken heart stabbed him so painfully that he feared he was dying. He gripped at the chainmail, dragged Gwaine away from the others who had died, ended up with the Knight’s body on the floor as he crouched over him.

Dead. Not even an ounce of life, Morgana’s Magic stained all over him. His face was screwed up in pain, the evidence of the torture he’d had to endure, and Merlin was aware that he was making a sound. A scream, lightning flashing down in front of him as he lost control of his gift.

Some gift it was, Merlin had nothing left. He screamed until his throat felt like it was bubbling with blood, until the hatred for himself was as much as the hatred for the Witch.

He couldn’t live without Gwaine. There was no point, he had lost his best friend, and now he had lost the man that admitted Merlin was worth more than the armour he wore. Had held Gwaine’s hands when the Knight prepared for battle, let Gwaine’s lips brush over his so lightly.

‘I’ll come back to you.’

Now, as Merlin sobbed those words that Gwaine had said, pleaded with him to come back, the Warlock decided that if he couldn’t bring Gwaine back, then he would join him. That if Destiny was genuinely going to strip everything from him, then they couldn’t expect him to keep on fighting.

When he tipped his head to the sky, it was with Gwaine’s name on his lips. A prayer, pleading with every inch of his mortality to either kill him, or bring back his Knight. When the storm rumbled, Merlin knew they were listening. He begged in the old tongue, demanded that they listen to him, that they let him have his heart back. That he wouldn’t live, if they took everything from him.

The wind picked up, and people were beginning to shout and call, to run around the Courtyard as Merlin made the earth tremble. The people of Camelot had no reason to trust a sorcerer, but he dared any one of them to try and stop him now.

‘I will NOT be your PUPPET any longer!’ He screeched, and when the lightning hit the stone, he felt it. Power, pure and unrelenting, rushing through his veins like the Serket venom that had almost killed him. He swallowed it up hungrily, clenched his fists hard enough for his blood to drop to the stone, and then leant forwards to cover his Knight.

His forehead rested to Gwaine’s, their lips mere inches apart, and Merlin placed his hands over the Knight’s heart. All his being, everything he had, he would give to the man in front.

When the pounding in his head faded, Merlin realised that he was shaking. A steady thumping echoed in his head, and to begin with, Merlin presumed it to be his heart. That was until he felt the heat against his forehead, felt a thumb brushing along his cheekbone, catching the tears before they could fall.

‘What did you do, my Warlock?’ Rough, grumbled out and hoarse, and Merlin sobbed. He gripped at the chainmail, let Gwaine lift him like he weighed nothing, settling him down on his lap while Merlin desperately sought out his gaze, studied him for any signs of pain. His hand reached for the pulse, and Merlin realised he was laughing. Laughing, because Gwaine was watching him with wide eyes, staring at the wrecked courtyard and the cloudy sky and the stunned citizens of Camelot.

‘Merlin, did you just bring me back from the dead?’ Merlin cupped Gwaine’s cheeks, traced along his jawline and watched as the last of Morgana’s Magic slipped away from him.

‘I couldn’t lose both of you.’ Merlin admitted, and Gwaine’s eyes widened. Understanding, before a hand was grabbing the back of his head and drawing him in. The kiss was rough, hungry and needing to feel the other breathing, demanding in a way that Merlin couldn’t get enough of. When he pulled back, he could tell his eyes were still burning gold.

‘Run away with me.’ A new life, away from Camelot. Away from the pain. And, just like before, Gwaine’s promise remained the same. His hand linked with Merlin’s, squeezing gently.

‘I’m not leaving you.’

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry???


End file.
